


The Sacrament Of Penance

by carolinecrane



Series: down is where we came from [43]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-23
Updated: 2010-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-14 00:14:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/143226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinecrane/pseuds/carolinecrane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's inevitable that they'd forget to pick up something for Christmas dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sacrament Of Penance

Finn has a feeling that if he asked, Puck would refer to what Finn’s doing right now as ‘sucking up’. But he’s not; it’s just that his mom’s had to deal with a lot of changes lately, and most of those are kind of Finn’s fault, so he’s just trying to give her a good Christmas. It doesn’t really make up for the fact that he managed to blow her entire image of her only son right out of the water by falling for Will, but at least offering to clean up helps take some of the stress off her.

Finn’s carrying the last stack of empty boxes to the garage when he hears his mom swear in the kitchen, and he sets the boxes down and sticks his head in the door to watch her pulling random stuff out of cabinets.

“What’s wrong?”

Carole looks up at the sound of his voice and blows out a frustrated breath. “I forgot to buy chicken stock for the kosher mashed potatoes.”

“Kosher mashed potatoes? So we’re not having the usual mashed potatoes?” he asks, and he’s trying not to sound disappointed, because he gets that his mom’s trying to make an impression and all, but it’s just Puck’s mom, and anyway, Finn looks forward to his mom’s mashed potatoes every year.

“I have the stuff to make the regular kind,” she says, back to him as she tears into another cabinet. “But they’re not kosher, and I can’t expect our guests to go without just because I forgot the chicken stock.”

“Do you want me to go get some?” Finn asks, then he glances at the clock over the stove and regrets offering. It’s almost 11:30 already, and he has no idea what time Will’s actually planning to show up, but the thought of him hanging out in the living room with Finn’s whole family -- with _Puck_ \-- while Finn’s trying to find an open store that actually has chicken stock on Christmas Day is kind of terrifying.

The kitchen door swings open and he looks over to find Kurt frozen in place, one hand on the door while he watches Carole frantically searching through yet another cabinet.

“She forgot the chicken stock,” Finn tells him.

Carole looks up when he says it, gaze landing on Kurt and she looks kind of panicked. Like maybe this whole engagement dinner thing is a bigger deal than he thought; he never really expected his mom to care much what Noah’s mom thinks of them, but if she’s freaking out this much over mashed potatoes, she must.

“It’s for the kosher mashed potatoes,” Carole says, and Finn glances back at Kurt in time to watch him nod like her freak-out makes total sense. “I can’t think of anywhere we might even be able to buy any today.”

“I can,” Kurt answers, and when he smiles, Carole lets out a relieved sigh. “Finn and I will go.”

“What about Puck?" Finn asks, and it’s not like he doesn’t _want_ to help his mom out, but seriously, there’s no reason for all of them to go.

“Noah needs to stay here. In case Carole has questions about keeping kosher,” Kurt answers, then he makes this weird face at Finn that’s probably supposed to mean something. Finn glances at his mom, who still looks a little panicked, but she’s not digging through cabinets anymore, which is an improvement.

“Yeah, okay,” Finn says. “You need anything else, Mom?”

“No, I think we’re okay on the rest of dinner,” Carole answers, though she’s looking around like maybe if she stares long enough at the mess on the counters, she’ll remember whatever else she forgot. “Unless...Kurt, do you think we should serve on paper plates? I don’t know how kosher Noah’s family is.”

“The china’s fine,” Kurt assures her. He crosses the room and grips Finn’s sleeve, and Finn’s too busy wondering why his mother’s muttering about paper plates to complain about his brother dragging him out of the kitchen.

“We’ll be back before you know it,” Kurt says, waving and flashing what's probably supposed to be a reassuring smile. Then he’s ushering Finn down the hall to the front door and shoving his coat at him. “Let me just tell Noah where we’re going.”

He disappears into the basement before Finn can answer, leaving him standing by the front door wondering how much time has passed since Finn first found his mom freaking out in the kitchen. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and glances at the screen, telling himself he’s not disappointed that there’s no text from Will saying that he’s on his way. Not that Finn’s expecting him to call first, but it would be kind of nice to know that Will’s so eager to see him again that he can’t wait until 2:00.

By the time Kurt reappears it’s 11:45, and Finn’s considering ditching him and just going out for the stupid chicken stock himself. Except he doesn’t know what it _is_ , exactly, so he’s still standing in the foyer when Kurt turns up again, cheeks pinker than usual and a dopey smile plastered on his face. Finn rolls his eyes and shoves his phone back in his pocket, and when Kurt glances over at him and says, “What?” in a tone Finn hasn’t heard since high school, he just shakes his head.

“Nothing. I just...do you think you could hurry it up a little?”

Kurt purses his lips but tugs his coat on, then he pulls on a pair of gloves and follows Finn out the front door. Neither of them says anything else until Finn starts his truck and backs out of the driveway, wheels crunching over what’s left of a freak early season snow.

“So what’s the rush?” Kurt asks once they’re on the road. When they reach the end of the block he waves a hand to indicate that Finn should take a left, and Finn wonders why he didn’t just let Kurt drive. Except that it gives him something to do other than obsess about what Will’s doing right now and check his phone a hundred times, so he flips on his left blinker and eases across the intersection.

“I’m not exactly sure when Will’s coming over,” Finn confesses, stealing a glance at Kurt and blushing when he finds Kurt smirking at him. “I mean, I said he should come watch the game, but I’m not sure which game he’s going to show up for.”

“You mean you’re hoping he’s already as desperate to see you again as you are to see him.”

And okay, that’s pretty much right, but it’s not like he’s going to _admit_ it.

“Whatever, dude. I just don’t want him watching Mom freak out about Mrs. Puckerman coming over. And I definitely don’t want to leave him alone with Puck any longer than I have to.”

“Carole’s not freaking out because Mrs. Puckerman’s coming over,” Kurt says, and when Finn glances over at him Kurt’s got one eyebrow raised like he can’t believe he actually has to explain this. “She’s freaking out because _Will’s_ coming over.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” Finn says, turning into the parking lot of a convenience store that looks like it might actually be open. “Will just came to dinner like three days ago and she didn’t have a nervous breakdown about it.”

“That’s because three days ago he was just our old Glee director. But suddenly he’s your very first boyfriend, and you went and told her you _love_ him. It’s to be expected, really.” Kurt pauses and leans forward in his seat, squinting at the convenience store for a sign of life. “You should have seen my dad the first time I brought a boy home. I thought he was going to have another heart attack just from the strain of trying to pretend he _wasn’t_ freaking out.”

Finn laughs and turns off the engine, then he gets out of the truck and follows Kurt into the store. It’s open, all right, but it’s a total dive. Not the kind of place he’d expect Kurt to frequent, that’s for sure. The gas pumps out front look like they haven’t actually functioned since the early 90s, and the few sad rows of food look like they might be about as old.

“You’re taking my dad to that game, by the way,” Kurt says, not glancing back at Finn to see his reaction as he scans the shelves.

Finn feels himself blush and he’s glad Kurt’s not looking at him, because he feels stupid enough about that whole mess without anybody witnessing his humiliation. He wants Will there, sure -- he wants to be with Will all the time, which is maybe starting to be a problem -- but as soon as he said _Will’s going to flip_ he knew he’d screwed up.

“Yeah, I know,” Finn says, and this time Kurt does look back at him, but all he does is raise an eyebrow before he turns back to the dusty shelf in front of them. “I know I messed up. It’s not even like I don’t want to go with Burt; Burt’s awesome, of course I want to hang out with him.”

Kurt glances at him again, just for a second, but it’s long enough for Finn to see the look on his face. And he’s not positive or anything, but he has a feeling the reason Kurt sort of looks like he wants to cry is because he doesn’t even have the option of going to a game with Burt. Not that it wasn’t his choice to move all the way to L.A., but Finn still feels a little guilty about being the one who gets to hang out with Kurt’s dad all the time.

He clears his throat and follows Kurt when he heads for the next aisle, scanning the shelves like if he just stares hard enough the chicken stock will appear. And Finn would help look, but he doesn’t even know what they’re looking _for_ , so instead he just stands at the end of the aisle with his hands in his pockets and keeps talking to the back of Kurt’s head.

“You know what the dumbest part is? I feel guilty about Will. I mean, he doesn’t even _know_ about the tickets yet and I already feel bad about telling him. Like I’m uninviting him or something.”

Kurt lets out one of those sighs that tells Finn he can’t believe he has to deal with this sort of thing, then he reaches out and picks up a little jar from the top shelf. It’s got a blue lid with at least three months’ worth of dust on it, and Kurt blows on the top and makes a face.

“This is going to have to do, I suppose.”

“That’s chicken stock?” Finn asks, squinting at the jar full of what looks like little cubes of tin foil.

“It’s bouillon. Not the same, but we’re just going to have to make it work.” He heads to the register and hands over the jar, flashing a tight-lipped smile at the bored-looking woman behind the counter. Finn stands behind him while he pays, rocking on his heels and trying not to worry about the time. He checks his phone anyway, and when he sees that it’s almost 12:30 he glances longingly at his truck.

Chances are Will won’t even come over early. He has a life, after all, and he’s probably got plenty of stuff to keep him busy that doesn’t involve Finn. But it’s Christmas, and Finn doesn’t like the thought of Will hanging out in his place by himself just because he thinks he should wait before he comes over.

Finn’s considering calling and telling him again that he should just come watch the game when Kurt thanks the woman and picks up the little jar. He glances at the phone in Finn’s hand, and Finn flushes and shoves it back in his pocket, then he follows Kurt out of the store. They climb into the truck and Finn starts the engine, but before he can pull out of the parking lot Kurt turns to look at him.

“Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to convince my dad that you really want him to go to the Indians game with you. Then you’re going to pick up a few extra shifts at the garage, and you’re going to use the money to buy tickets to the Reds season opener. Then you’re going to give them to Will and tell him it’s a late Christmas gift, because I’d bet all my back issues of Vogue that you didn’t get him anything. At least nothing that involved keeping your clothes on.”

Finn blushes hot and red when Kurt smirks at him. And it’s not that he’s embarrassed about his sex life or anything, but he’s kind of embarrassed that he’s so predictable. “Yeah, I slept with him, but it’s not like I said it was a present or something.”

“So you didn’t exchange gifts this year. Despite being 'friends' for how long now?” Kurt asks, fingers moving in the air around the word 'friends', which isn't even fair, because Will _is_ his friend. His best friend, who he probably should have bought a Christmas present for. Except he's been too busy trying to figure out how to get in Will's pants to even _think_ about Christmas, and it's a good thing he got his mom and Burt something from the wish lists Kurt set up for them at the beginning of the month, or this Christmas would have been a total disaster.

“Well, I mean, not exactly. He...kind of gave me something.”

“What?” Kurt asks, then he scrunches up his nose and Finn can’t help laughing. “Wait, if it involves any part of Schue’s anatomy I don’t want to know.”

“Chill, dude. It was a toothbrush.”

“He gave you a..." Kurt pauses, mouth open and it's so rare to see him speechless that Finn forgets to look at the road for a second. "Like, he happened to have a spare lying around for any former student that might stop by and throw themselves at him?”

Finn shakes his head and turns onto their street, his heart pounding a little harder in his chest at the memory of Will’s smile and the way he held out that stupid toothbrush. “Hilarious. And no, it wasn't just lying around. He said he stopped at the store on the way to his parents’ place yesterday to buy it.”

“Wait, he braved _holiday shopping traffic_ to buy you a toothbrush and you didn’t get him _anything_?”

He pulls into the driveway again and shuts off the engine, then he shrugs and turns to face Kurt. “I haven’t exactly been thinking about Christmas, to tell you the truth. I mean, between working on his car and rehearsals and stuff, I guess I just forgot.”

“You forgot. You forgot to get the man you allegedly love a Christmas present.”

“You got Puck a _sweater_. And you didn’t even pay for it.”

Kurt rolls his eyes and Finn figures he’s going to get out of the car and storm into the house, but all he does is unbuckle his seat belt and turn toward Finn. “Who do you think is paying for those two days we spent in the hotel? I assure you, Noah is more than satisfied with his Christmas _and_ his Hanukkah this year.”

“Right, and I bet you kept your clothes on at the hotel,” Finn says, but instead of scowling Kurt just smiles. Like, an _actual_ smile, no blushing or anything.

“Touché.” He’s quiet for a minute, and Finn figures he’s caught up in some naked memory Finn really doesn’t need to know about, but then Kurt looks at him again, eyes kind of narrowed like he’s thinking hard. “Still, a toothbrush. That’s only one step below a key to his apartment.”

Finn’s heart pounds hard in his chest at the idea of Will giving him a key. And he knows Kurt’s reading too much into this; it’s just a toothbrush, after all, just Will being himself, the kind of guy who always thinks about the details. But he can’t help imagining what it would be like to be able to let himself into Will's place whenever he wants, and he knows if Will did give him a key, it wouldn't be long before he stopped going home at all.

It wouldn't take much for him to get used to waking up next to Will every day; so far he's only done it once, and he's already wondering when they can do it again. He knows most mornings wouldn’t be like today, with long, slow kisses and Will making him pant and beg to let him come. Most mornings they’d both have work or school, and there would barely be time for a goodbye kiss on their way out the door.

Still, he likes the idea of rushed, distracted goodbye kisses almost as much as he likes the idea of the mornings they do get to stay in and take their time getting out of bed, and he especially likes the idea of the mornings when they never get out of bed at all. Finn’s busy picturing exactly that -- picturing it and blushing the color of his old letterman jacket -- when Kurt gasps, and Finn looks up in time to watch a beat-up blue Camaro roll down their street.

“Oh my God, he actually drove that death trap over here.”

And okay, Finn wasn’t expecting that. Because they’ve got the Camaro running, sure, but they haven’t talked about Will actually _driving_ it. Around the neighborhood is one thing, but all the way to Finn’s house means he had to be going at least forty-five, and if he got on the highway...

“I replaced the timing chain,” Finn says, but his heart’s racing and he’s not even sure if it’s because of the car or the fact that in a minute he gets to see Will again. “Seemed like it was running okay a couple days ago.”

“Finn, seriously,” Kurt says, leveling him with that look Finn hasn’t seen since they were in high school and Kurt was explaining to him exactly why he would never understand the nuances of Lady Gaga or whatever. “I know you’ve learned quite a bit, but you’ve never replaced a timing chain before. If it were to slip while Will’s on the highway...well, let’s just say that if he were lucky, he’d only be looking at a complete engine rebuild.”

Finn knows all that, because he got the same lecture from Burt yesterday. He knows that if the chain slips it probably only means a couple blown pistons and the two of them starting over at square one with a trashed engine. But if it happens while Will’s on the highway and the person behind him isn’t paying attention, it could mean a lot worse.

“You have to tell him not to drive it until he gets it looked over by a professional.”

The way Kurt says it makes Finn blush all the way to the roots of his hair, and he’s not even sure why, because he _knows_ he’s not really a professional. He likes working at the shop, and he’s picked up a lot more than he realized, but that doesn’t make him an expert and they both know it. The only one who doesn’t know it is Will, but he’s the one driving the Camaro around town when the last person to put it back together was Finn.

“Look, Finn,” Kurt says, voice a little softer this time, “I’m not saying any of this because I’m jealous that you get to spend time with Dad and I don’t. I _am_ a little jealous, I suppose, but I know that’s not your fault. I’m asking you to get Dad to look at the car because I don’t want you _or_ Will getting hurt.”

“I know,” Finn says, and he means it. He doesn’t want Will getting hurt either; that’s the last thing he wants, and if it means telling him the truth, Finn knows he has to do it. “It’s just...I like how he looks at me like he thinks I’m some kind of genius because I can change his oil.”

Kurt smirks and Finn blushes some more, but he doesn’t bother trying not to laugh.

“Do you really think he’s going to stop looking at you...however he looks at you, just because you tell him the truth? You learned how to replace a timing chain for him. If he knows anything at all about that that pile of scrap metal he’s driving around, he’ll ask you to marry him for that alone.”

Finn laughs again and doesn’t bother pointing out that unlike Puck, most people don't jump straight to the marriage proposals after the first date. He knows Kurt’s mostly joking, for one thing, and for another, he’s already freaked out enough about telling Will the truth about his car; he doesn’t need to start imagining what would happen if Finn confessed that he’s actually thought about the whole ‘happily ever after’ thing.

“I’ll settle for him not getting pissed that I lied to him.”

They both watch the Camaro door swing open, and Finn wonders all over again how it’s actually staying attached to the rest of the car. Then Will climbs out and swings it shut, and Finn takes a deep breath and opens the truck door.

“I better catch him before he gets inside.”

Kurt gives him an awkward pat on the shoulder and an even more awkward smile, then he takes his jar of tin foil cubes and beats it into the safety of the house. And Finn can’t even accuse him of being a coward, really, because it’s not like he wants Kurt around while he tells Will that he lied.

“Hey,” he says, swinging the truck door shut behind him. He holds up a hand in an awkward wave and takes a few steps down the driveway, and when Will leans back against the hood of the Camaro to watch him Finn swallows hard and keeps going.

“Hi,” Will says when Finn stops in front of him, and it’s weird, because Finn’s the one with the big secret here, but Will looks about as nervous as Finn feels.

“She give you any trouble on the way here?” Finn asks, nodding toward the car, and Will glances down at the rusty hood like maybe he forgot what he was leaning on.

“No,” he answers, surprise and something else in his voice, but Finn can’t quite put his finger on what. “It ran like a dream, thanks to you.”

“Yeah,” Finn says, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck, and he feels kind of bad about making Will stand around in the cold, but he needs to say this before he chickens out. “That’s kind of what I need to talk to you about. You probably shouldn’t be driving the car around, especially not on the highway. Let me bring it into the shop tomorrow. Burt will look it over first thing, and if everything’s okay, I can bring it back to you later.”

Will’s arms are crossed over his chest, and Finn figures it’s because he’s cold, but he wants to take a step forward and ease them apart anyway, wrap them around his waist until they’re pressed together. Just so he can feel Will close to him again, just in case Will gets pissed and takes off and Finn has to spend the rest of the day wishing he’d just kept his mouth shut.

“I don't...why does Burt need to look it over? You’re a good mechanic, Finn. Why would Burt let you work in his shop if he didn’t trust you to make sure the car was safe before I drove it?”

“He trusts me.” As soon as he says the words it dawns on Finn just how true they are, and his heart hammers in his chest as he glances back toward the house. “It’s just...I work at the shop, yeah. But the truth is I mostly work the register. Burt lets me do some of the routine stuff, changing oil and brake pads, stuff like that. But until you I’d never changed a timing chain before. He gave me a crash course Sunday morning just so one of us would know what we were doing. If I messed something up and it slips, it could take out the whole engine. I just think you should let him look at it, just to be safe.”

“Wait,” Will says, and when he frowns it makes those little lines appear at the top of his nose. Finn braces himself for the inevitable; Will’s going to call him a liar, which is kind of true, and then he’s going to get back in the Camaro and drive all the way _back_ across town, and he probably won’t even call when he gets there to let Finn know the engine didn’t, like, fall out of the car on the way.

“Are you telling me you’ve been learning how to fix cars...for _me_?”

And okay, when he puts it that way, it actually doesn’t sound that bad. Kind of stalkerish, maybe, and he’s not sure if ‘stalker’ is really any better than ‘liar’, but he’ll take it. Finn shrugs and blushes and inches a little closer, and when Will doesn't move away he decides to take it as a good sign.

“I guess I just wanted a reason to hang out with you.”

“So you learned to fix an entire car,” Will says, but he doesn’t sound mad. In fact, he sounds like he thinks it’s kind of funny, and he’s smiling at Finn in that way that always makes Finn’s skin feel too tight, so Finn figures he’s not about to tell Finn to go to hell and take off in his unreliable car.

Finn edges even closer, until he’s standing right in front of Will. If he pulls a hand out of his pocket and reaches out he could touch Will’s arms where they’re still crossed over his chest, so he does, and Will doesn’t try to pull away. Instead he catches Finn’s hand in one of his own and tugs him closer still, fingers laced together and Finn forgets all about how cold it is outside.

“So you’re not mad that I lied?”

“Are you kidding me?” Will asks, like it’s the dumbest question he’s heard in awhile. “I thought when Kurt ran inside that you were coming over here to tell me to go home.”

“Oh,” Finn says, glancing back toward the house and he's glad for once that the none of the windows look out over the front yard, because it means none of his family members are in there spying on them. “No, I’m pretty sure my mom would kill me if I let you leave. According to Kurt she’s in there right now freaking out about how my boyfriend's coming over and there won't be any kosher mashed potatoes to feed you.”

“Kosher?” Will asks, and Finn grins at his little frown and grips the front of his jacket.

“It’s a long story,” he murmurs against Will’s mouth right before he presses their lips together.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he wonders if the hood of the Camaro can take both of them leaning against it like this, but when Will’s free hand curves against his cheek and his lips part under Finn’s, he decides not to worry about it. They’re going to have to replace pretty much the entire body at some point anyway, so it doesn’t matter if they have to start with the hood.

“It’s cold,” Finn murmurs between kisses, though the truth is he stopped feeling the cold awhile ago.

“Is it?” Will’s voice is sort of breathy and far-away, like he’s not paying attention to what he’s saying. It’s cute and kind of hot and Finn knows how fast this could spiral out of control, just like he knows his mom’s in there waiting for them.

“We should get inside,” he says, and he knows Will can hear the regret in his voice just as clearly as Finn can. He brushes one last kiss against Will’s lips, then he takes a step backwards and tugs on the hand still wrapped around his. “You ready for this?”

“Not even close,” Will answers, but he laughs and lets Finn pull him toward the house anyway.


End file.
